


It's Good to Be King

by starhawk2005



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Het, Male!Dom, Mild BDSM, Other, Smut, clone!sex with multiple clones OMG, my kinks let me show them to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title pretty much says it all, actually. PWP, featuring clone!sex, and multiple clones, at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Good to Be King

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I think if I owned Loki or any of his copies, well….I wouldn’t have any time to write smut, let’s just put it that way!  
> Author’s Notes: Inspired by a submission I made to the Loki's Dirty Whispers comm. on Tumblr. 
> 
> I have no frame of reference for this AT ALL, so if it sucks ass (though that can be fun too, hee!), I apologize!

It starts with Loki’s low whisper in your ear.

“Tell me, my love, have you ever attempted to please three lovers at the same time? Taking one inside your sinful little mouth, another between the rounds of your backside, and a third lying beneath you, inside your core to the hilt?”

You blush crimson and shake your head, wondering where he is going with this. 

“No? I admit, the idea arouses me greatly. I should like to conjure three copies of myself, and then watch as they claim you. Would you consent to that, for the enjoyment of your king?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You’re not _afraid_ , exactly, because he's asked some fairly challenging things of you in the past, and you've never regretted indulging him, not once. But this....this is a whole new level of challenging.

His eyes gaze at you, eager and emerald green, and you can't bring yourself to refuse him. He won't allow you to be truly hurt; he never does. So you trust him yet again.

“Yes, Loki,” you whisper back. Out there, he is 'My King', but within the confines of this room, he is 'Loki'.

His smile dazzles you, and already you feel better about this. He gets out of the bed, still naked, and drapes himself over the ornately carved, deeply cushioned chair nearby. You flush, remembering all the things he's done to you in that chair in the past.

He motions lazily, eyes locked on you, and the air around you shimmers. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, teeth teasing at the side of your neck. If you didn't know better, if you didn't see your king sitting right in front of you, you would swear this duplicate was him. It feels like him, it sounds like him, it even _smells_ like him, of leather and metal.

You push back against the clone, moaning at the feel of him pressed hotly against the back of your thigh. Clever hands cup your breasts, fingertips trailing around and around your nipples, and you groan. You're not sure what you were expecting, but you welcome this gentle, sensual approach. 

The double rolls you onto your back, pressing kisses all along your throat, and you squirm, clenching the bedsheets in your fists.  He makes his gradual way down, kissing and nipping, lingering at each breast, then down further, pushing your legs wide apart.

Another clone materializes from the air next to you, making you jump. He smiles at you, gently and encouragingly, in stark contrast to the powerful hands that seize your wrists and pin them up over your head against the soft pillows. A gasp tears itself from your throat and you twist against his grip, as the other clone, between your thighs, dips his tongue between your wet folds.

He knows your body well, does your King, and thus so do his copies. You are slick and aching within moments.

“Easy, love,” the clone next to you says. He kisses you deeply, swallowing your next sounds as his partner in crime spreads you wider, slipping teasing fingers between and around sensitive folds of skin.

It's too much, you're _drowning_ in sensation. How will you handle it when the third clone joins the fray? You can't focus, your thoughts scattered and rent in pieces by sensation. The first clone holds you wide open, making long strokes of his tongue from the tight hole between your buttocks right to the top, where he teases your sweet spot with a few quick flicks of his rough tongue, before starting all over. And the newer clone has already made his way down to your breast, nibbling gently at each puckered nipple.

You can't silence the noises you are making, even if he wanted you to (and he didn't say so, so you assume you are safe from punishment). You turn your head at one point, seeking his approval, and the sight of him sprawled in his chair, hooded eyes watching everything as he lightly strokes himself…you know you would do anything for him. He's never had to mind-control you, not like the others; you gave him your obedience willingly.

Sweat beads all over your skin, from the crown of your head to the ends of your toes, as the two clones continue to work on you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Heat practically steams off your skin, and you've never been this _wet_ before.

The first clone is suckling on you now, lips pulling on your clit, and one, two, and then three fingers glide their way deep inside you, pressing against tender nerves, and your hips buck, completely outside of your control. All the while, the second clone is doing ungodly things to your nipples with teeth and tongue. Within a few racing heartbeats you go rigid, and climax so hard you think you may have broken several bones.

You hear your King's low chuckle. “So responsive, my dear one? We've barely begun.”

You don't resist as four pairs of hands roll you over onto your belly and guide you up onto your hands and knees. Not that you would resist.

Something drips onto the middle of your back, the clones massaging it into your skin - the one next to you working it into your shoulders and neck, and down to your breasts, the clone behind you kneading it into your lower back, backside and thighs. You know this oil well, you and Loki have used it to massage and pleasure each other many times before.

More oil is dripped and then spread around by firm fingers in between your buttocks, and you stiffen a little despite yourself. “Easy,” Loki croons again, and from the corner of your eye, you can see his hand speeding up on his shaft, the skin glistening. He must have applied the same oil to himself, while you were otherwise occupied.

The second copy’s hands cup your breasts, squeezing and pulling gently at your nipples, as the clone behind you caresses the outer edges of your tight hole with slick fingers. He does not attempt to press inward yet, and you have to admit, it does feel very pleasurable. After a few long moments he changes to tantalizing you with a single finger, tracing around and around, finally starting to penetrate you, and you bite your lip hard.

“Relax, dear one. Take me in,” whispers the clone behind you, in your king’s beloved voice, and you do your best to comply. You think his finger is already halfway inside you when the clone at your side shifts, one hand still tugging at your nipple, while the other reaches between your thighs to massage the swollen nub of your clit.

You shudder and give in completely to sensation, not sure when the single finger inside you becomes two, and then three, more oil dripped onto and inside you to facilitate the invasion. Just that you feel stretched full, though not unpleasantly. But your clit is still being teased, and the first clone is still massaging the outside of your entrance, around where his fingers have impaled you, and neither of those actions are unwelcome, either. 

The fingers flex carefully inside you, stretching and loosening you for what is to come, even as the first clone pushes two fingers into your slippery core, earning another gasp from your lips. “Yes,” Loki hisses, and even though your eyes are now closed, you can easily picture his hand speeding up on his shaft yet again.

You muffle a whimper into your arm as the various fingers inside you work wicked magic on all your nerves. They are stroking places that no one has found before, working in tandem to drag you right back to the edge.

But this time they don’t allow you to go over the precipice, not yet. The first clone’s fingers withdraw, and then you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against you. You try to relax, and he slowly pushes into you, pausing whenever you tense up again, while you pant and dig your nails into the mattress. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it is _intense_. The hand on your clit massages a little harder, easing some of the tension, distracting you with pleasure.

The clone behind you finally sheathes himself fully inside you, then stops once again, patiently letting you adjust to the feeling. “Very good, my love,” your king praises you after a few moments have passed.. “Are you ready for more?”

“Yes,” you whimper. You are not certain if you can handle any more, but you’ll try. For him.

The second clone removes his hands from you, then slithers underneath you, smiling your king’s sweet, wicked smile up at you. The clone buried deep inside you helps you shift, holding your hips and moving you both as one being, until the clone underneath you can press his own arousal against the entrance of your sex.

You sink your nails into his shoulders, groaning, as he eases himself slowly into your drenched core. You can feel your flesh quaking around him, around _them_ , expanding in ways you’ve never imagined possible. They _fill_ you, the sensations taking over everything else, taking all rational thought and breaking it into millions of tiny pieces.

Until they start to _move_. 

It’s a slow, tender pace at first. At the beginning, they move in rhythm, one gliding into you as the other withdraws, the noises wrenched out of your throat almost inhuman in their ecstasy.

Then they start to move into and out of you at the same time, and you think you’ll simply die from the intensity of the pleasure. The clone underneath you reaches between you to apply pressure to your nub, and then you are certain that you _will_ die, and happily.

This time when you climax, it’s with a scream, pushed to even greater heights when they continue to ride you, driving the waves of your orgasm mercilessly before them.

You slump down onto the clone underneath you, utterly spent. They slow inside you, but do not withdraw, and when the third clone is conjured from the air in front of you, then you remember again all that you promised your king.

You manage somehow to raise yourself on trembling, weak arms, beckoning your third lover forward, taking him between your lips.

He tastes like salt and iron, just as your king does, and he touches you the same way, too – his hand stroking your cheek, then gathering up your hair and holding it out of the way, his green eyes looking down at you and watching you as you worship him. 

Your other two companions begin to move inside you again, slowly, caressingly, and your eyes flutter shut once more, overwhelmed by everything you are experiencing. Filled to the brim in every conceivable way.

The clone in front of you starts to gasp, but before he spills himself down your throat, he disintegrates. Startled, you open your eyes just in time to see the last of him fade into gold and green spangles.

Then Loki – the true one- is climbing up onto the bed in front of you, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, just as yours is. “I can watch no longer,” he rasps, a sound that sends a throb right through your entire body. You smile and take him deeply into your mouth, tracing your tongue along the thick veins, suckling on him the way you’ve learned he enjoys most.

He doesn’t last long, but neither do you. The two remaining clones are repeating the same dance as last time, impaling you over and over. The clone underneath you makes full use of his hands to excite the nerves in your nipples, your clit, and you drown all over again, stimulated to heights you never thought you could endure. Your muscles clench so tightly it verges on pain, your vision starting to go hazy. 

Your full-throated scream of pleasure is muffled by Loki’s shaft deep in your mouth, but his low groan of release follows right on yours. Heated spurts coat your tongue and slip down your throat, right before you black out.

You wake wrapped tightly in your king’s arms, the clones all apparently dismissed. “Very good, my love. I am well-pleased,” he praises you.

“As am I, my King,” you reply with a smile. Once again, he has made you feel things you would never have believed possible. 

And you would do it all over again, whatever he would ask of you. 

 

** JESUS CHRIST WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? *runs away and hides in shame* **

** Yep, I’m definitely destined for hell. **


End file.
